#they're just like: that seems like a you problem

[exhuastedpigeon]

Part of growing up and being a teenager is that you're sometimes forced by your parents/authority figures to deal with situations that you don't want to. It sucks, but that's life. You have to deal with things you don't want to as a person, you can't avoid hard conversations or uncomfortable feelings forever. It doesn't work like that.

So the fact that Helena and Ramon are seemingly letting Chris avoid talking to his dad. Are seemingly helping Chris put roots down in Texas so he can keep avoiding his dad. Who don't seem to be trying to push Chris to face what he saw and the grief and trauma he's experienced isn't helping him in the long term - it's teaching him to run away from his problems and avoid them. Which is exactly what Eddie did when he was only a few years older than Chris. Which may be what Ramon was doing when he was traveling so much for work. Which is what Helena is doing by not talking to her son about the shit he's been through.

Letting Chris, a thirteen, now fourteen year old child, go with his grandparents to Texas for a few months because that's what he wanted was, in my opinion, a good parenting move from Eddie. It showed Chris that he trusts him and values what Chris thinks is best for him.

But it's been three months now. It's been long enough that Chris isn't just going away because it's what he thinks is best for himself, it's because he's avoiding the hard conversation(s) he's going to have to have with his dad. He's fourteen - while sometimes he does know what's best for himself, there are a lot of times where he doesn't.

Helena saying they're thinking about putting a pool in, that they take him to the pool club all the time and he's made so many friends, all of that is clearly a grandparent spoiling their grandchild. She isn't having hard conversations with him, she's letting him avoid his problems and shove them under the rug - something that has never ended well in the Diaz family but they continue to do anyway because that's just what they do - they move forward even at the cost of growing.

I have a feeling there will be some kind of reckoning between Eddie and his mother. He already kind of had one with his dad (though I'm not sure if that's developed further since Chris left). But I have a feeling it'll be Eddie who, once again, has to take the first step to end generational trauma within his family so that Chris doesn't grow up and run away from is problems too.

[jetii]

Charting A New Course

Pairing: Tech x fem!Reader / Tech x Jedi!Reader

Words: 6,219

Tags/Warnings: fluff, hurt/comfort, kissing and cuddling, Tech being a cutie bc that’s mandatory

Summary: You and Tech adjust to your new life together, and to your new home on Pabu.

A/N: For Anne @baddest-batchers 💙 Ily and thank you so much for the inspo, your continuous support, and for being such a light in this fandom!! This is set 2-3 months after the first two installments in the Tech x Sarad series(?). Chronologically it’s part 4 since there will be another (nsfw) part out next week.

Previous Work | Next Work | Masterlist

It's strange for Tech to feel out of his depth, but the truth is, he is.

He's never been good at understanding people. Their thoughts, their actions, their feelings...they're a mystery to him. He's spent years trying to solve the puzzle, but there are too many pieces missing. Too many variables, too many unknowns.

He's given up, mostly. Decided that, sometimes, there are just things that are better left alone.

But, now, he has to try again. Because it's different. He's different.

And Sarad...

Well, Sarad is the biggest puzzle of them all.

You're the most intriguing, most confounding, most wonderful thing he's ever encountered. And he wants nothing more than to solve you. To unlock the mysteries of your heart, and to find out why you do the things you do. Why you stay.

Why you love him.

He knows, logically, that there are no simple answers. That, like the universe, your motivations are vast and complicated, and that they can't be distilled down to a single line of code. But, still, he wonders. He wonders, and he questions, and he hopes. He hopes, with a fierce desperation that surprises even him, that you'll never leave.

But, sometimes, he can't help but worry that, eventually, you will. That, one day, you'll realize that you're better off without him. That you'll grow tired of him, or bored, or frustrated, or simply change your mind. That you'll decide that the life he can offer you isn't enough. That the stars aren't worth it.

He worries, but he doesn't say anything. He's learned, through countless cycles, that the best way to solve a problem is to approach it objectively. That, sometimes, the answers aren't as clear as they seem.

So, instead, he does what he does best.

He observes.

Tech studies you, and watches you, and tries to understand. And, over time, he learns. He learns your habits, your likes and dislikes, your favorite foods and the songs you hum when you think no one's listening. He learns what makes you laugh, and what makes you angry, and what makes your eyes light up with joy. The things he never noticed, or never paid attention to, or never thought to ask about. He learns them all.

And, slowly, he begins to feel more comfortable around you. More secure.

Because, no matter how confusing you may be, you're always consistent.

You're quiet, and calm, and patient. You listen, and you watch, and you observe, just as much as he does. You understand him in a way that no one else does, and you never judge him for his oddities. You seem to appreciate them more than anything. And, sometimes, he finds himself doing things just because he knows you'll find them amusing. More so lately than ever.

He finds it curious, and slightly alarming, that he's beginning to change. That his habits are shifting, and his priorities are rearranging, and that his feelings are becoming clearer.

But, most of all, he finds it intriguing.

Because, now, when you smile, or laugh, or brush a strand of hair out of his face, he doesn't look away. He doesn't shy away from your touch, or avert his gaze. He holds it. And, when he does, his pulse quickens, and his cheeks flush, and his lips twitch upwards, almost without him noticing. He doesn't understand why, but it's become a habit, and one he doesn't mind indulging in.

You seem to notice the change, and you seem delighted by it. But, rather than question him about it, or draw attention to it, you simply smile. A small, knowing smile. One that's both pleased and mischievous, and one that makes his heart stutter.

You're smiling at him like that now. Tech knows he's been caught staring, and while it would normally annoy him, this time, he finds that he doesn't mind. In fact, he quite enjoys it.

He smiles back, a small twitch of his lips, and feels his heart beat a little faster. You're radiant, and beautiful, and his. You're his. And, somehow, the idea doesn't frighten him as much as it used to.

"What are you thinking about?" you ask, tilting your head slightly.

"You," he replies, his voice soft.

Your smile widens, and you lean in, pressing a kiss to his cheek. You reach in front of him, using your hand to push the last of the vegetables from your cutting board into the stew for him. He's been making an attempt to learn how to cook, and he's been finding it a useful distraction from his racing thoughts. Still, though, his focus isn't on the food. It's on you. Always on you.

"Any specific thoughts, or just general observations?"

"General, mostly," he replies, watching you as he stirs the mixture. "You seem happy."

"I am," you reply. "It's a good day."

"How can you tell?”

It's not a challenge. He's genuinely curious. You're always so calm, and serene, and at peace with the universe, and he's still trying to figure out how you manage it. He knows that part of it is the Force, and your connection to it, but there's more to it than that. There has to be.

"Hmmm..." You glance up at the ceiling, as if the answer is written on the wood. "It's hard to explain. I guess...I just feel it."

"That's not very scientific," he says, his lips twitching upwards. "Do you have any evidence to back up your claim?"

"None that you would accept," you chuckle. "But, I can tell. Just like you can tell when a storm is coming, or a plant needs more water. It's a feeling. An intuition."

"I see," he murmurs, his eyes drifting towards the window. It's overcast, and the wind is picking up, and the air is heavy with the scent of rain. It's the kind of day that usually has him retreating into his bunk, or burrowing into his work. The kind of day where he seeks out comfort and shelter and warmth.

"Don't worry," you say as if reading his thoughts. "We have a few hours before it starts. And the greenhouse should hold up. I reinforced the roof and walls yesterday."

"I didn't realize," he says, surprised, and he turns back to you. "I must have been distracted."

"It's alright," you assure him. "I know you were busy."

"With what?"

"Whatever was going on in that brilliant mind of yours," you say with a grin. You nudge him gently with your hip, and he feels his cheeks flush. "I didn't want to interrupt. You were so focused on whatever you were working on."

"I apologize," he murmurs. "I shouldn't have—"

"It's fine," you interrupt, placing a hand on his arm. "I know you get lost in your thoughts sometimes. It's nothing to apologize for. Besides, you needed the quiet."

He smiles at that. You always seem to know when he needs space. When his mind is too full, and his thoughts are too loud, and the only way to escape them is to lose himself in work. You've become an expert at reading his moods, and at taking care of him. And, even though it took him a while to adjust and accept it, he finds that he doesn't mind.

"Thank you," he says, his voice sincere. "You're always so thoughtful."

"Of course," you murmur, and your gaze drifts back towards the window.

He follows it, and his eyes settle on the clouds that are starting to gather on the horizon. The sky is a dark gray, and the air is cold and damp, and there's a faint rumble of thunder in the distance.

"I'd do anything for you, Tech.”

Tech pauses, his spoon hovering over the pot. The words are soft, and sincere, and they send a shiver down his spine. Because he knows you mean them. He knows, in his heart, that you'd never lie to him. Not about something like this. 

He's not sure how to respond, but he doesn't have to, because you're already continuing.

"I like seeing you like this," you say, a smile tugging at your lips. You turn away from the window, your eyes meeting his. "At peace. Happy."

"I like being like this," he replies. He lets the spoon rest against the rim of the pot and reaches out to take your hand. Your fingers interlace, and he marvels at how perfectly they fit together. At how easy it is, now, to express his affection. It's still not second nature, but it's not as difficult as it used to be. Not with you. "With you."

"You're different, lately," you note. "More...relaxed. I like it."

"Is that so?" he asks, raising an eyebrow.

"Yes," you laugh. "It's nice."

"I suppose I have you to thank for that," he murmurs, his thumb rubbing absent-minded circles on your skin. "You've had quite the influence on me."

"Is that a good thing?"

"It is," he says, and the certainty in his voice surprises him. He doesn't question it, though. "I'm trying to learn how to let go. To be content with the here and now, and to not always be thinking about the future."

"Well, you're doing a good job," you praise, and your smile is brighter than the sun. "I'm proud of you."

"You are?"

"Yes," you say. "You're learning, evolving. Like a flower opening to the light."

Tech huffs a laugh. "That's an...unusual metaphor."

"But a fitting one," you point out, leaning into him.

"Perhaps," he admits. "Although if I were a plant, I would hope to be something more interesting than a flower."

"Like what?"

"Something useful," he muses. "A tomato, perhaps."

You laugh, loud and bright, and the sound makes his chest swell. He loves your laugh. It's warm, and full, and contagious. It fills him with a strange kind of joy, and he feels his lips twitch upwards.

"Only you would want to be a vegetable," you say, shaking your head in amusement.

"A tomato is a fruit," he corrects quickly. Both because he’s unable to resist, and because he knows you don’t mind and that he’ll find your response amusing.

"Oh, of course," you say with an exaggerated eye-roll. He smiles. "My apologies. A fruit, then."

"You are forgiven," he replies, a teasing lilt to his voice.

Tech leans over and presses a kiss to your temple. He's not sure why, but the urge strikes him, and he doesn't resist. He's learned by now that there are some impulses he should listen to. Especially when they involve you. Especially when it means he can feel your warmth, and the smoothness of your skin, and the way your breath hitches at the contact.

You tilt your head to look at him, and he sees the emotions flicker across your face. Surprise, and delight, and affection. You're always so expressive, and open, and his smile widens.

"What was that for?" you ask, raising an eyebrow.

"No reason," he murmurs. "Just...happy."

You grin and lean in, brushing your nose against his.

"Love you," you whisper.

"And I, you," he replies, his fingers reaching up to tangle in your hair. He brings you closer and kisses you, dipping his head and tilting to capture your lips just right. It's slow, and gentle, and perfect, and he's amazed, once again, at how natural it is. He doesn't know how he managed to live so long without this.

He doesn't know how he can ever again live without it.

“They’re going to be here soon,” you murmur against his lips, a note of amusement in your voice.

Tech hums in acknowledgement, but doesn't stop kissing you. He knows he should, but he can't bring himself to pull away. He wants to savor the moment. To memorize every detail, and burn the memory into his mind. You're perfect, and he's not ready to let go. Not yet.

You smile against his lips, and his grip tightens, pulling you closer in a way that makes you let out a breathy laugh. Your hands are on his arms, and your fingers are tracing lazy patterns on his skin as your mouth opens to him.

He can't help but feel a sense of smug satisfaction at the fact that he's the one making you laugh. That he's the one causing the blush that's spreading across your cheeks. That he's the one drawing these reactions from you.

He wants to draw more. Wants to see you smile, and hear you laugh, and watch your eyes light up with joy. He wants to keep doing this, over and over again. Until the stars die, and the galaxies collapse, and the universe falls apart around him. 

He wants to do this, and so much more, and it's a realization that makes his head spin.

He can't imagine his life without you. Without the sound of your laughter, and the feel of your hands, and the warmth of your body pressed against his. He can't imagine his life without the simple domesticity, and the quiet moments, and the uncomplicated love that comes from simply being.

He can't imagine his life without this feeling. Without this certainty. This happiness. And he's suddenly overcome with a desire to do everything he can to hold on to it. To do everything he can to make sure that it never fades.

"Tech..." you gasp, your fingers digging into his shirt.

He pulls away, his chest heaving, and looks at you. You're flushed and breathless, and his gaze drifts down to your lips, pink and slightly swollen from his kisses. He can't help himself. He leans in and kisses you again, a soft, chaste press of his lips to yours.

"They're really going to be here soon," you breathe, your forehead resting against his.

"I know," he sighs. He takes a deep breath and forces himself to pull away. "I should finish preparing dinner."

You nod, a slight frown on your face. Tech knows it's because you want him to keep kissing you, but you're also a stickler for punctuality, and you don't like making people wait. He doesn't either, but he finds that, when it comes to you, he's more than willing to break the rules. Just a little.

"I'll set the table," you offer as you step away. "And I need to get the dessert from the icebox. Do we have any honey left?"

"You made dessert?" he asks, unable to hide the excitement in his voice.

You'd taken to baking lately, and he'd found himself quite enjoying the results. Wrecker especially had developed a taste for your creations, and he was constantly begging you to make him more. Tech didn't mind. He was just happy to see you happy. And, if he was being honest, he didn't mind the extra sweets.

"Yes," you reply. "And before you ask, it's not a cake."

"A shame," he teases. "I was rather hoping for another one."

"You just want more frosting," you laugh. You point a finger at him, the corner of your mouth quirked up. "Don't think I haven't noticed."

"I'm not sure what you're referring to," he says innocently. He smirks as he turns back to the pot, stirring the mixture. "But if I were, I would admit nothing."

"Sure," you chuckle, rolling your eyes. You move away from him, grabbing the plates from the counter, and start arranging them on the table. The sound is comforting, familiar. He's gotten used to this. To the easy rhythm, the simple domesticity, the quiet moments. He never thought he would. Never thought he could. But, with you, he can.

"I think we have enough honey," he calls over his shoulder. "I bought some last time I went to the market. It's in the pantry."

"Thanks," you shout back. "I'll grab it after I finish setting the table."

He listens as you work, the sounds of your movements soothing. You move about the kitchen, opening and closing cabinets, retrieving the dishes and cutlery, arranging everything just so. He's learned by now not to interfere. You have a particular method, and a routine, and he's learned that it's better not to interrupt.

Instead, he adds a few finishing touches to the stew. Some more herbs, a dash of seasoning, a bit of extra salt. He stirs, and tastes, and nods, satisfied. It's good. Better than the first few times, at least. He's pleased with the results, and he hopes that the others will enjoy the meal as much as you always seem to.

"It smells wonderful," you say as you appear beside him. "It'll be nice to have the whole family over. I haven’t seen Echo since…” Your voice trails off, and you shake your head. “Well, not for a while."

"I know," Tech says, his voice soft. He knows that, while the time you spent apart from the others was hard on him, it was harder on you. He had lost his brothers, but you had lost everything. The family you had made, the friends you had known. All gone. You had never even said goodbye.

He's grateful that you've all been able to come together again, in a way. That you're not alone, and neither is he.

"I'm glad they're all okay," you say. "And I'm glad they have a place where they can finally be safe. Where we can all be safe."

"It's a good place," Tech agrees. Pabu is small and remote, and it's far removed from the dangers of the galaxy. They don't have the resources of Coruscant, or the defenses of Kamino, but they're content. They're safe. They're free.

You pause, tilting your head, and he can tell you're listening. He can't hear anything, but he knows you can. He knows you can sense them. It's still strange, after all this time, but it's becoming less so. Less unsettling. More...natural.

"They're here," you announce, a slight smile on your face. "Are you ready?"

"Yes," he replies as his fingers slip into yours. "Let's go greet our guests."

The door opens, and the sounds of laughter drift in, followed by a gust of cool air. Omega's the first to step through, and she rushes towards you, practically tackling you in a hug. The others file in, greeting Tech and giving you warm embraces, and soon, the small house is filled with familiar voices.

Wrecker claps Tech on the shoulder, nearly knocking him over on his way to the kitchen. Hunter offers him a quiet smile and a nod. Crosshair gives him a look that's equal parts sarcastic and fond, and Echo pulls him into a one-armed hug.

"It's good to see you," Echo says, his gaze drifting to you. He gives you a nod and a questioning look, and you dip your head in return. "Both of you."

"Likewise," Tech says, the corner of his mouth tugging into a small smile.

"The food smells great," Hunter remarks.

"I'll put some extra spice in it for you," Crosshair drawls, nudging Tech out of the way and moving towards the kitchen, where Wrecker is already sampling the food.

"Please, don't," Echo groans as he follows him.

The others settle in, spreading out across the room, and the atmosphere quickly becomes comfortable and familiar. Tech watches as they banter, and joke, and bicker, and a small part of him misses the days when it was just the five of them. But, it's a small part, and an insignificant one. Because, while those days were good, these ones are better. Because you're here. And, because he's finally allowed to have you. To love you.

You catch his eye and give him a warm smile, and he can't help but return it.

Yes, things are better, now. Much, much better.

The first thing Tech notices when he awakes is the smell of rain. It’s faint, but it’s there, and he rolls over, breathing deeply. The rain on Pabu is different than Kamino's, softer, and earthier, and he’s come to enjoy it. He cracks open an eye, taking in the sight of the droplets trickling down the darkened window.

The second thing he notices is the absence of you.

Tech's eyes snap open, and his gaze immediately seems out your form, but the bed is empty, and his heart leaps into his throat. He reaches out, his hands brushing against the cold sheets, and he swallows thickly, forcing himself to take a deep breath. He’s being irrational, and his mind is playing tricks on him. You are here. You’re safe. You’re home.

He rises from the bed and crosses the room, his bare feet sinking into the plush rug that you had insisted on purchasing for your new home together. Tech is still not convinced of its practicality, but the way it feels beneath his feet is pleasant, so he never protested. And, judging by the number of times he had caught you walking across it barefoot, pacing in circles as you typed away on your datapad, you seem to enjoy it as well.

Tech smiles slightly at the memory and opens the door, stepping into the hallway. The house is dark, save for a small lamp that's glowing softly in the living room. He pads down the hall and comes to a stop when he reaches the threshold. 

You’re sitting in the center of the floor, the soft glow of the light illuminating your features. Your legs are crossed underneath you, and your head is bowed as if in prayer. He can see your shoulders rise and fall with each breath, and the quiet tension that seems to constantly radiate from you has lessened somewhat. But there is still a weariness in the way you held yourself, a weight that has not yet been lifted.

Tech stands in the doorway for a moment, simply watching you. The sight of you meditating is not an unfamiliar one, and neither is the way his heart fluttered when he sees you. But the intensity of his feelings still takes him by surprise. He can only imagine what it would be like in the future. He doesn’t think it will ever stop, this overwhelming love he felt for you.

"Are you going to stand there all night, or are you going to join me?"

Tech starts slightly, his heart jumping at the sound of your voice. You turn to look at him, a small smile playing across your lips, and he can’t help but return it.

"I wasn't sure if I was allowed," he says quietly. He crosses the room, grabbing a blanket from the couch as he did so. You watch him, your expression softening as he carefully arranges the blanket around your shoulders before settling down next to you.

"Of course you're allowed," you murmur, shifting closer to him. "This is your home, too."

"I know," he says. "I was merely giving you some space. I did not wish to intrude."

You shake your head and let out a soft sigh. "Tech, I appreciate the sentiment, but I've had plenty of space. More than enough."

He hesitates for a moment, searching your expression. You seem calm, and the usual tension that lines your features had faded, but he’s still unsure. He had not wanted to push you, to ask for anything more than you were willing to give. And, though you had been open and welcoming with him in the months since your return, he’s still unsure how to act. He doesn’t quite know the boundaries, and he’s still afraid of crossing them, of hurting you.

"You don't have to worry, Tech," you say softly, as if sensing his thoughts. Perhaps you did. He would not be surprised. Your abilities were impressive, even by his standards. "I'm okay. I promise."

"Are you?" he asks, the question slipping from his mouth before he could stop it.

You pause, your brows drawing together. Tech holds his breath, waiting.

"Yes," you finally say, your voice firm. "I'm alright."

"Okay," he says.

You sigh and shake your head. "You're not going to believe me, are you?"

"I believe that you are trying to convince yourself," he replies gently. "But I also know that it is not as easy as just deciding that everything is okay."

"Tech—"

"Please, let me finish," he interrupts, holding up a hand.

You bite your lip, but remain silent, waiting.

"I know that it will take time," he says, his gaze falling to his hands. "And I know that there are some things that will never fully heal. But, if you are willing, I would like to be there for you. To help you in any way that I can."

He glances at you, and he finds you staring at him, your expression unreadable.

"Tech," you say quietly. "I know what you're doing."

"What?" he asks, surprised. "What do you mean?"

"You're trying to take care of me," you say, a wry smile tugging at your lips.

"Is that so terrible?" he mutters. His brows furrow as he studies your face, trying to understand your reaction.

"No," you reply. Your voice is soft and reassuring, but he can tell by the way you wring your hands that it’s more than that. "It's not. But I can take care of myself. I've been doing it for a while now. Long before you showed up."

"I know," he murmurs. "But you don't have to anymore. I am here now. And I will not leave you. I promise."

Your smile softens, and you lean against him, resting your head on his shoulder. He shifts, wrapping an arm around you, and his hand settles on your waist, his fingers stroking lightly over the fabric of your shirt. His shirt, actually. The one that he had lent you last week, and had yet to get back. Not that he minds. Seeing you in his clothes is more satisfying than he would have thought.

"I want to help," he says softly, his gaze fixed on the rain streaking down the window. "But only if you let me."

You don’t respond, and for a moment, he thinks that maybe he had said something wrong. Maybe he had overstepped. Maybe you weren't ready. But then you let out a breath, a long, shaky exhale, and he feels your body relax against him.

"I'm sorry," you whisper.

"For what?" he asks gently.

"For making you worry," you say, your voice thick with emotion. "I just...I didn't want to bother you. I didn't want to be a burden."

"You are not a burden, Sarad," he replies. "You never have been, and you never will be."

"Thank you," you murmur, nestling closer to him. He holds you, letting his hand drift up and down your arm, feeling the tension begin to leave your body. It’s a familiar motion, one that has become habitual, and it soothes both of you. He can feel his own anxiety fading, and his mind grows clearer, his thoughts less jumbled. The simple contact, the feeling of your presence next to him, is grounding.

"I missed you," you say after a while. "So much."

"I missed you, too," he murmurs.

"When I was on Nar Shaddaa, all I could think about was how much I wanted to go home," you continue, your voice barely audible. "Not the place, just...the feeling. Of being with you."

He tightens his grip on you, his arm around your waist pulling you closer.

"But now that I'm here and things have settled down, it's hard," you say. "With the Order, I had a purpose. A reason to keep going. And now, it's like I've lost my anchor."

Tech nods, his chin bumping against the top of your head. "I understand. After the war ended, and we defected from the Empire, the rest of the squad and I felt similarly. We had always had a sense of direction, but once the fight was over, it was difficult to find a new one."

"Yes," you breathe. "Exactly."

"But we found it," he says, his hand squeezing your shoulder. "Together."

You turn your face, burying it in the crook of his neck, and he feels a rush of warmth spread through him. The feeling of your breath on his skin is comforting, and he closes his eyes, letting his head fall against yours.

"We will find your new purpose," he says, his voice low and soft. "It will take time, but we will. And, in the meantime, we will have each other."

You hum in agreement, your hand slipping into his and giving it a gentle squeeze. "I love you."

"I love you, too," he says, his lips pressing a kiss against your forehead.

"Do you think we'll ever feel normal again?"

He thinks for a moment before speaking, not wanting to upset you further, but he can’t find any answer that isn’t the truth.

"No," he finally says. "I don't believe so. Not truly."

You let out a breath, and Tech can hear the disappointment in it. He turns his head, letting his cheek rest on top of your head.

"That's what I thought," you sigh sadly. You move to pull away, but he holds firm.

"But, normal is subjective," he continues, his hand running up and down your arm. "And we have never been normal, so I do not think we have much to worry about."

"I guess," you reply. "It's just hard, sometimes. Being here. Trying to fit in. Especially when I have no idea what I'm supposed to do next."

"Neither do I," he says honestly. "But I have faith that we will figure it out."

You huff a sound halfway between a laugh and a sob. "When did you get so optimistic?"

"I learned from the best," he replies, a smile tugging at his lips. You pull from his embrace, and he feels a brief moment of panic before he sees the amusement shining in your eyes through the tears.

"I'm hardly the best," you chuckle.

"In my opinion, you are," he says firmly.

"Well, your opinion is biased."

"It is an opinion based on fact," he counters, raising an eyebrow as he turns his head toward you. You snort, rolling your eyes, but the smile remains on your lips.

You push yourself up onto your knees, and you lean forward, brushing a kiss against his lips. It’s brief, but it leaves him reeling. When you pull back, your cheeks are flushed, and he feels a surge of affection for you.

"Thank you," you say softly, your eyes meeting his. There’s a warmth in your gaze, a vulnerability that he had rarely seen, and he finds himself leaning forward, wanting to be closer to you again. "For everything. For being here, and for listening. And for just...being you."

He smiles, his hand coming up to cup your cheek. "Always."

You press a kiss against his palm, and his heart swells, his chest feeling lighter than it had in weeks. He’s struck once more by how lucky he is to have you back in his life. After everything he had gone through, after everything you had endured, it seemed impossible. But, somehow, the universe had brought you together once more. And, despite everything that had happened, he has no doubt that, together, you can face whatever the future held.

"Come on," you say, standing and extending a hand. "Let's go to bed."

Tech lets you pull him up, and his arms wrap around your waist, holding you close. You tilt your head, gazing up at him, and his breath catches in his throat. There’s no fear, no anxiety, no doubt. Only peace, and happiness, and love.

"Sarad..."

"Yes?"

He leans down, his lips finding yours. It’s a gentle, tender kiss, but it’s enough to make his pulse quicken. You melt into him, your hands sliding up his chest and tangling in his hair. He pulls you closer, his fingers gripping the fabric of your shirt. You tug him down, deepening the kiss, and he can’t help but sigh. It feels so right, and it’s so easy to lose himself in the sensation, to forget about everything else.

When you finally break apart, the two of you are breathing heavily, and your foreheads are pressed together.

"That was nice," you murmur, a small grin tugging at the corner of your lips.

"Indeed," Tech agrees.

You lean up on your toes, brushing a kiss against his cheek, and his grip tightens on you, keeping you close.

"So," you say, your voice low and soft. "Bed?"

"Yes," he whispers.

Your hand finds his, and your fingers lace together as you lead him out of the room, the blanket trailing behind you. He follows you down the hall, through the doorway, and into the bedroom, his eyes never leaving you.

The door closes behind you, and Tech lets out a sigh, his shoulders slumping as the last of the tension seeps from his body. The house is quiet and still, save for the faint sound of rain trickling down the roof. The darkness envelops the two of you, but he’s content to simply bask in your presence.

"You're quiet tonight," you observe as you make your way to the bed.

"I have a lot on my mind," he admits, following you.

"Anything you want to talk about?" you ask, settling onto the mattress.

He hesitates for a moment, unsure of how to answer. The words are on the tip of his tongue, the ones that had been there for a while, but he doesn’t know how to say them. Doesn’t know if you were ready. And he doesn’t want to pressure you, not when so much is already uncertain.

"No," he says, joining you. "I'm alright."

"Okay," you murmur, curling into his side. He wraps an arm around you, his hand splayed across your back, and he lets out a long, slow breath. He can feel your heart beating, strong and steady, and he matches his breathing to the rhythm.

"I'm sorry," you whisper, your voice thick with emotion. "I know this can't be easy for you."

"No," he agrees. "It isn't."

"But it's worth it," he adds. "Every moment with you is worth it."

You bury your face in the crook of his neck, hiding your tears, and he tightens his hold on you, pulling you close. Your breath is hot against his skin, and he feels your tears dampen his shirt, but he doesn’t mind. His hand drifts up and down your back, a soothing motion that he hopes is helping.

"I love you," you mumble into his chest.

"I love you, too," he replies, placing a kiss on the top of your head.

"I wish I could take away your pain," you say quietly.

"You already have," he assures you.

"What do you mean?"

"Being here, with you, is the closest thing to happiness I've known," he explains. "I would endure any pain, suffer any hardship, to have this."

You’re silent for a moment, and he can feel your heartbeat quicken.

"Really?" you ask, your voice small and vulnerable.

"Yes," he replies firmly.

You look up at him, your gaze searching, and he meets it unflinchingly. He wants you to see the truth, the sincerity, the depth of his emotions. Because it’s true. Because, despite everything, you are still the center of his universe.

"You know, Tech," you begin, a small smile tugging at your lips. "This might be the most romantic thing anyone has ever said to me."

"I’m pleased to hear it," he says as a matching smile stretched across his face. “I will note the time and date.”

You chuckle, shaking your head. "I don't know what I would do without you."

"Hopefully, you will never have to find out," he says earnestly.

"Yeah," you sigh. You settle against him once more, your head on his chest. "Hopefully."

He holds you, his arms encircling you, and he can feel your body relaxing, your muscles loosening. Your breathing is evening out, and he can tell that you were falling asleep. It’s been a long day, and a difficult night, and you need the rest. He wants nothing more than to give it to you.

"The rain," you murmur, your voice barely audible. "Reminds me of Kamino."

"It does," he agrees, his own eyes starting to grow heavy.

"I missed it.”

"Me too.”

You shift, moving closer, and his hands instinctively come up to hold you. He’s tired, but he doesn’t want to sleep, didn't want to miss a single moment with you. But his body is betraying him, and his mind is growing fuzzy. The exhaustion is too much, and his eyes slip closed, the darkness enveloping him.

He feels the blankets shift as you curl into him, and your breath is warm on his neck, a comforting sensation. You’re close, and real, and solid. You’re here, and that was all that mattered. He would give anything, would do anything, to keep you here, with him. To keep you safe.

And, with that thought in mind, Tech surrenders himself to sleep, knowing that, when he awoke, you would be there.

Taglist: @baddest-batchers @covert1ntrovert @stellarbit @bruh-myguy-what @qvnthesia

@spicy-clones @kindalonleystars @cw80831 @totallyunidentified @heidnspeak

@lovelytech9902 @frozenreptile @chocolatewastelandtriumph @etod @puppetscenario

@umekohiganbana @resistantecho @dindjarins1ut @tech-aficionado @aynavaano

@burningnerdchild @ihatesaaand @lolwey @hobbititties @mere-bear

@thegreatpipster @lordofthenerds97 @tentakelspektakel @notslaybabes @mali-777

@schrodingersraven @megmegalodondon @dangraccoon @dreamie411 @sukithebean

@bimboshaggy @anything-forourmoony @9902sgirl @jedi-dreea @salaminus

@ghostymarni @gottalovehistory @burningnerdchild @yoitsjay @callsign-denmark

@julli-bee @sonicrainbooms @captn-trex @feral-ferrule @webslinger-holland

@marchingviolist @deerspringdreams @chaicilatte @somewhere-on-kamino

@silly-starfish @floofyroro

[quipxotic]

Bell's Hells: [Shares opinions on a thing they disagree on.]

Ashton: [Joins the conversation and says something, probably angrily because hey, it's Ashton.]

A certain segment of the CR fandom: I just hate how he talks over everyone, trying to make every discussion about what he thinks or about his pain.

Bell's Hells: [Continues to share their opinions.]

Ashton: [Again joins the conversation to disagree.]

A certain segment of the CR fandom: I hate how he prevents the others from speaking!

Bell's Hells: [Continues to share their opinions unimpeded.]

Ashton: [Leaves the room because they're suffering from 2 points of exhaustion and a migraine and know they are prone to say something without filter and unnecessarily start a fight with their friends.]

A certain segment of CR fans: See! So selfish and self-absorbed! Has to swan off in a dramatic way just to keep the focus on himself!

Bell's Hells: [Continues having their discussion, absolutely not focused on Ashton at all because, you know, they're talking about the end of the world and maybe they understand what's going on with their friend.]

File under things that are a fandom problem not a story or a character problem, because Bell's Hells seem fine with Ashton as they are. You all do know that's it's fine to say you don't like a character, right? That is allowed. But then maybe realize that perhaps everything they do is not horrible, it's just that everything they do reminds you that a) they exist, and b) that you don't like them.

[girlactionfigure]

Bill Maher: “Let's talk a little about the international scene. The long awaited second front in the Israeli war seems to have started this week, not just the pagers, but they're bombing all over Lebanon, yesterday and today. Here's what Kamala Harris said this week, about what we should do when the war is over. No reoccupation of Gaza, no changing of the territorial lines of Gaza, and an ability to have security in the region for all concerned in a way that we create stability. I feel like if that's what you have to say, don't say anything. Just shut up. I mean, everybody who talks about Israel these days is just so full of it. I mean, or just not you know? I don't want children to die. Duh. Who does? None of us want children to die. None of us want this war to go on, but it's not addressing what the problem is. The problem is that one side wants a two-state solution or at least always did. It's a little more right-wing now. I'm talking about Israel, but that still has been their position. One side never did and still doesn't. One side uses terrorism to get their goals. One side retaliates against terrorism. One side is accused of genocide but doesn't do it. The other side actually would love to do it. People keep saying Israel has the right to defend itself. And then whenever Israel does, they object to it. Well, yeah. I mean, this is one of the astonishing things about the response to the pager bombings. I understand how people are upset about the sight of Gaza being bombed. They're being bombed because Hamxs hides beneath and behind its own population to cynically exploit their deaths. But then the Israelis turn around with the most astonishingly well-targeted attack in history, like, literally going off in the hands of any Hezbollah member who has one of these pagers. And you have people like congresswoman AOC, lambasting Israel, the head of the UN lambasting Israel. So they say Israel's entitled to self-defense, but there's no conceivable self-defense that they're actually prepared to defend for the Israelis. I'm glad the Israelis are taking matters into their own hands. They just took care of a terrorist who had the death of 300 Americans on their hands going back to 1983. He had a $7,000,000 State Department bounty on his head. If I were Anthony Blinken, I would pay the Israelis $7,000,000 and say thank you for avenging the death of our Marines.” Via @billmaher

[seat-safety-switch]

There's two reasons to do a cross-brand engine swap: because you're cheap, or because you're filled with spite. I am, of course, both. For years, forum people have become enraged from literally any prospect of putting a Dodge motor in a Chevy, or vice versa. Such an act is sacrilege. It taints the noble purity of the Chevrolet race, and its meticulous assembly by a group of guys who were high as hell on synthetic drugs and kept forgetting which way to bolt the windshield on. I really like making those folks, in particular, very mad.

To leverage my disgusting amounts of knowledge about everything automotive in the pursuit of "those things probably shouldn't go together" is basically the pinnacle of excitement. Why not jam a Rolls-Royce geared high-bypass turbofan from a 747 into a Jaguar XJ6? Does it even fit? How long can you run it for before it snaps your tack-welded motor mounts off the frame and starts flying down the expressway, clobbering Bronco Sports and blasting tollbooths into a fine mist of wood powder?

Of course, as with everything else in my life, I have to be pragmatic. What really drives me to do these swaps is the fact that I have a large collection of motors lying around, and I don't care too much what it says on the valve cover before underhand-lobbing it into the nightmare project that I need to drive to work tomorrow. Making people mad is just a bonus, even if it is a really good one. Soviet diesel engine it is. I'll run it on kerosene, that'll really show Diesel Ivan at the gas station.

Does the average person care, though? Does it impress them? No. I stopped explaining myself to them years ago. They don't think it's weird at all that a Plymouth could hold a Ford engine. In fact, they are surprised that it was ever the opposite case. They're just engines, right? Plymouth got them from the engine store, same as Ford.

In fact, the more we talk about this competition-of-swaps, the stranger it seems to my rational side that I have embarked upon a campaign of harassing the very same folks who could empathize with my odd hobby the most. Just don't ask a professional to psychoanalyze me. Those folks get real competitive when they find a weird thinkin' problem, too, and then I have to crawl out of my therapist's office while they exchange gunfire before I can get to my car and escape. Good reason to swap in a faster engine, come to think of it.

[sanguineterrain]

a bloody vow | jason todd

Summary: After the racy encounter with your knight, you seem to lose all progress made in your relationship. You hardly talk, and you're lonelier than ever. But after a house break-in has you running to Jason for help, you're forced to face each other, blood and all.

Pairing: knight!Jason Todd x gn!reader 

Word count: 2.3k

Warnings/tags: violence! Jason kills a man. reader and jason's house is broken into and the thief attacks the reader (but they're okay.) mentions of self-flagellation, religious guilt. reader feels very lonely without their big strong knight :( the eroticism of killing for another person. codependence. partial nudity. probably not the healthiest relationship but whatevs. Jason would do anything for them what more could you want?

the divider

Everything's changed since the morning that you found Jason with the whip.

He won't even eat with you anymore.

He accepts whatever you make and thanks you quietly, then eats his supper in the shed. He didn’t say much before—now you're lucky if you get more than a word from him.

He's also taken to punishing himself regularly. Jason does it far away, so he won't wake you. But you've seen his back and the welts peeking beneath his tunic and the spots of blood. You also see fresh injuries from his training, injuries that could be avoided if he was more careful. You've tried to offer him a salve to heal his back. He always refuses, flinching like a kicked dog if you get too close.

You fear that you'd pushed Jason too far that morning. You replay it in your mind, wondering what exactly had possessed you to act in such a vulgar manner. Exposing yourself to him like that after spying on him earlier—what were you thinking?

You weren't, is the truth. It seems all rational thought leaves your brain when you're around him.

It's truly like living with a ghost. Your feelings are jumbled, caught in a maelstrom of guilt and fear and desire. More than anything, you're unbearably lonely. You'd feared a harsh hand when you first were deposited into Jason's bed. You never imagined that there could be a worse fate than being wanted: being ignored.

So, it's been three weeks of this new routine. Jason has been disappearing at night to the pub. Not that he told you that—you know this because of the incessant gossip that flies around the market. It's not hard to decipher who the 'hulking knight' is when people stare at you.

You try not to think about what Jason gets up to. You really have no right to be angry if he finds someone to warm his bed. You're lucky he hasn't thrown you into the sea after your insolence.

Routine is all that keeps you sane. You do the washing and cooking without complaint. Jason still leaves you money to go to the market, and sometimes you save a couple of coins to buy books. You keep the books under a floorboard in your room. He never asks you for change.

You don't know if this routine will be enough, though. You wish Jason would just throw you out and be done with it. You're certainly not performing the duties that the king expected of you when he brought you here. Jason can hardly look at you, much less touch you.

You eat alone tonight. By the time you wash up and are ready for bed, it's late. Jason still isn't home.

Not unusual these days. You get into bed and blow out the candle. Maybe you won't wake in the morning. Then you'll both be free.

A crash jerks you out of slumber.

You're awake immediately, fumbling under your bed for the small dagger you'd secretly purchased when you first came.

Your first thought is that Jason came home drunk. But if he’s come home drunk in the past, you've never heard him, and it's always as quiet in the morning as it was the night before.

A chilling second thought hits you as the floor creaks outside your door.

Someone's broken in.

You quietly get to your feet, dagger in hand. If Jason were home, he would be here already, dealing with the problem. As it is, you're alone and completely vulnerable without your knight.

Your door splinters open. You stumble backwards.

"Wha' have we here?" A lantern shines in your face. "Look a' this. Pretty thing like you shouldn't be left alone."

You bolt for the front door.

“Oh, no no, you don’t.”

The intruder darts after you and stops you before you can open the door. He hauls you backwards and throws you against the dying fireplace. You land on your ribs and the wind is knocked out of you.

"Too big of a house for a little mouse like you,” the man says with a greasy sneer. 

You turn and lunge at him. You catch him off guard enough to stab his shoulder with the dagger. He howls in pain and shoves you off. Your head hits the wall, and for a moment, you fear you’ll vomit. But you don’t, so you stand.

"You bitch!" he shouts. "I'll fuckin' kill ya for that!"

That's all the motivation you need to run.

You’re aching all over, head pounding. Your legs are cold, being that you're only in a nightgown. You might be bleeding. But you keep running.

You run all the way into town, which feels like miles at this time of night, bruised as you are. It’s easy to find the pub, and it doesn’t even occur to you that you’re not allowed inside. All that’s on your mind is Jason. Find Jason.

You pound your fists on the door of the pub, crying.

"Jason, Jason!" you shout. “Help me, please! Please!”

The door opens. You stumble in, almost tripping on the uneven wood. Men stare at you as you enter.

"Jason!" you yell.

A knight you don't recognize stares down at you, blocking your path. You stumble back, grabbing the wall for support.

"Out," he snarls. 

"Please," you beg. "Please, I need my husb—"

He's shoved aside suddenly, ale sloshing over his mug. He growls in protest, but someone drags him away by the back of his tunic. 

Relief floods you at the familiar face who takes his place. Jason.

He's obviously shocked to see you here, eyes roving over you. His shirt is unbuttoned, a thin fresh cut on his cheek. He says your name. Every inhibition you’ve felt over the last month disappears.

"What—"

You throw yourself into his arms, weeping. Jason catches you, cradling the back of your head. You're surrounded by him, the rest of the world blocked out. He smells like the strong yellow soap you make in large chunks because it’s cheaper than purchasing it at the market. He smells like the home you share.

"What is it? Where do you hurt?" he asks quietly, shielding you from all the pairs of eyes. He rubs your back, bent over you. You cling to his neck, shaking with the memory of tonight.

"A man b-broke in," you say, and Jason's grip tightens. "He said–he said he w-would...k-kill…"

You trail off. Jason pets you, breathing even on your neck.

You know that you hardly have any rights, that the men here would sooner see you die than step into danger for you. Perhaps that includes Jason too. Perhaps it's too late. 

"I understand," Jason says into your ear. He doesn’t waver despite how you tremble. "It's alright. I won't let him hurt you again. I'm... I'm so sorry for leaving you alone."

He exhales, long and slow. You feel him begin to pull away. You panic, digging your nails into his arms. Jason quickly soothes you. He doesn’t chastise you for clawing him. 

"It’s alright. I'm going to handle this, and then we'll go home," he says. "Roy."

A redheaded knight approaches. You slowly turn your head. He smiles gently at you.

"Your Highness," he says, bowing deeply, and you feel a little lighter.

"Roy's going to take you home while I handle the thief," Jason says. "I promise that I'll be fast, alright?"

"You promise you won't leave?" you ask. “You’ll come home right away?”

Jason takes your hand, stroking your knuckles. "I swear. May God strike me down if I don't return."

“Oi, man, get your little harlot out of—”

Jason stands, rising and towering over the angry drunk. He’s immediately cowed under Jason’s gaze.

“Watch your mouth,” Jason says, even and deadly. The man leaves in a huff.

"I'm sorry for causing trouble," you whisper, cheeks still wet.

"You haven't," is all he says, before leading you outside.

You have an audience, which is absolutely humiliating, but neither Jason nor Roy pays them any mind, so you don’t either. 

Roy helps you onto his horse, and in the time that that takes, Jason is already headed back to the house by the time you and Roy start off. You realize then that you trust Jason. You've never met this Sir Roy in your life—Jason's never even mentioned having friends. But you trust that you will get home safely. 

“Jason won’t let him get away,” Roy says. You believe him.

The ride is short. You don’t know if you’ll manage to go back to sleep without Jason there, but the least you can do is host Roy, perhaps. You’re bone-tired, but you ought to be hospitable, shouldn’t you?

But as you get closer to the cottage, you hear voices in the woods. Jason’s horse is out front. You dismount without Roy's help and take off running. He calls after you. You ignore him.

You don't go through the house, not ready to face the destruction your intruder left in his wake. Instead, you go around and follow the stream into the woods. The voices get louder. When you get to the clearing by the shed, you stop.

The lantern has been knocked onto its side, flames flickering. But you can very clearly make out Jason in the dark. His shadow cuts a frightening figure that dances across the trees. Moonlight flickers through the canopy, illuminating him and the other figure. Your attacker.

Your attacker, who’s discovering that he picked the wrong house to rob.

Jason's got him pressed against a tree. Blood drips from the man's head and face. You stay a few yards away, behind a tree. The bark dully bites into your hand. You’re torn on whether you should make yourself known or not. Stop this or not.

"You touched them," Jason says, and does something with his sword that draws out a strangled groan from the attacker. The metal shines with fresh blood.

"I am worse than you," he continues. "I lost sight of my duty. My reason for living. Everything I do is for the star-crossed beauty my king captured for me. It's all I can do to pay penance for my sins. And you come into my house and dare to lay a hand on what is mine?"

The breath leaves you in a punch. You're cold with sweat, but something tugs at your gut. Something frightening. Something that tells you to stay hidden.

"I am worse," Jason says. "Because a good man would show you mercy and let you be hanged for your crimes."

"That fuckin' bitch deserved it," the intruder spits.

Here, Jason loses his composure. Here, he twists his sword.

"I will tear you apart," he says, voice a snarl.

And Jason does exactly that. It's bloody and gory. You feel sick a few times. You can't see everything in the fractured light, but you can hear it all. Bones crack, the man screams, but Jason doesn't relent. He drives his sword deeper and deeper. Blood gurgles from the attacker's mouth.

You watch on, feeling quite like you had the day you saw Jason fucking his fist.

The body drops with a thud as Jason lets him go. You imagine a sword slick with blood. You imagine Jason covered in it.

The realization is dizzying. You are an executioner, and Jason is your axe.

You don't know what you're more horrified by: the fact that it took you this long to look away or that you don't mind the stench of fresh blood.

Jason takes two steps and picks up the lantern. He sees you. He stops.

"He's dead," you say dumbly.

Jason swallows, face otherwise blank. "You... you were not meant to see that."

"I didn't." But you did.

He knows you did.

"Roy should've taken you inside," Jason says.

You can't understand why shame draws the lines of his shoulders. 

"I didn't want to go inside," you say. "Not without you."

Jason inhales sharply. Then he looks away. "I shouldn't have... I pray that you'll forgive me, but I understand if you don't."

Jason is covered in more than a little blood. Red spatters his cheek, though it looks black in the shadows.

He's slick with blood. You wonder if he'll bathe in the river. If you might help him.

You step forward. Jason is still. He watches you steadily as you approach.

You pull down the sleeve of your nightgown and reach for Jason's face. He flinches. You hush him.

"It's alright," you whisper.

He lets you touch his cheek. His eyelids flutter as you wipe the blood from his face. Then you hold his cheeks with both hands. Jason shudders.

"You can touch me," you say.

Immediately, Jason shakes his head, hands curling into fists at his side.

"No. I'm unclean. You shouldn’t touch me either, you’ll—you’re—”

"I don't mind." Your thumbs trace the contours of his face for a moment, feeling the hard line of his nose, the curve of his jaw, his full bottom lip. He lets you, eyes locked on yours.

Then, you pull up your nightgown, revealing your bare thighs, your underwear, your belly. Jason’s chest heaves. He immediately looks away. But you’re quick. You guide Jason's hand with your other hand. He stains your flesh with blood. You picture the sticky, bloody handprint he'll leave on your waist. That frightening feeling returns. 

Jason's hand is hot on your skin. He exhales shakily. 

"I'm sorry," he says again, cupping your waist. His fingers gently knead your skin as if he's testing if you're real. It tickles, but you don't move, fearing Jason will pull away at the slightest jerk.

"Don't sleep in the shed anymore," you say.

"Alright."

"Eat supper with me."

"Okay."

You draw Jason closer. Blood smears your clothed chest. His thighs warm your exposed legs. You will not let him punish himself in the morning. You will sleep on his chest if that’s what it takes. Only you are allowed to draw blood from him. 

"Are you mine?" you ask.

Jason's answer is instant.

"Yes."

[piratecaptainscaptainpirates]

You know, if I have to read another take or fic that treats Ed ordering that racist French captain skinned with the snail fork as proof of Ed's anger issues, or, somehow bizarrely commonly, has Stede talk down to him about it, I'm gonna lose it. Both Ed and Stede indirectly cause some pretty major violence in s1e5, but only Ed's seems to be proof of a violent nature. Strange.

And I'm honestly a bit tired of talking around this, because when you look at what some portions of this fandom can excuse and what they can't, it becomes very obvious how this is really just a racism problem. I mean, in this episode:

Ed responds to racist abuse by ordering the French captain killed. It's in the context of him having already given the captain a chance to back the fuck off ("what's that supposed to mean," said very calmly considering we all know what "your kind" means), has to visibly hype himself up to start yelling, and is responding to being called a donkey. It's vile and Ed deserves to be upset, not to mention he knows he can't just let that slide when senior crew members like Fang are right there watching. Ed is visibly upset and shaken by this whole situation and what he thinks it says about him as a person.

Stede, upon learning that the party guests were cruel to Ed (in a passive-aggressive but undoubtedly racist way), is angry on his behalf, and also wants to retaliate, just as Ed did earlier. It's sweet that he's defending Ed, but this is surely also personal for Stede, who felt mocked and belittled earlier and has had to deal with a lifetime of that. We see the results of Stede's playing the crowd here, with the boat burning in the background and the screams of people jumping out into the open sea, and Stede is also visibly pretty stoked about the whole thing.

There's no way around it, I think: we have been conditioned to think it's morally superior for someone to "turn the other cheek" and "be the bigger person" in the face of racist abuse, and Ed doesn't do that, so that's why this is still such a big issue for some people. When Ed gets upset again at the party, unlike earlier when Stede was put off by Ed ordering the captain skinned, Stede validates his feelings and is the one to respond, and that's the difference in reactions, I think. In the second case, Stede has validated Ed's anger and pain - Ed's feelings have gotten White Permission to exist.

OFMD does something really very unusual in the current media landscape, and that's how it treats racism in itself as violence. It doesn't expect characters to look away, turn the other cheek, or try to make amends with racists when they're cruel to them. And the only problem here wrt Ed is that some viewers of the show, bringing in the biases of the society we live in, will get uncomfortable when Ed acts in accordance with the show's philosophy - it doesn't matter that Stede is much more gleeful about being the one to respond in a similar situation, it matters that Ed is brown, and we therefore expect him to have to put up racist abuse. The show doesn't ask us to pass judgment on Ed in this episode, and I think that if you're automatically more inclined to believe Stede's actions more "reasonable" and "justified" than Ed's, you just might need to unpack that.

[ninyard]

How good do you think the individual foxes actually are at exy? Like we know Kevin is like THE diva of exy, Andrew can be insanely good when he tries, we know Neil is steadily improving and it's also mentioned that Matt is quite good, but what about the rest of them? Cause I lowkey feel like Nicky kinda sucks ass noah fence.

i think nicky is the personality hire

im kidding okay be nice to nicky. he tries his best. he just wants to be in germany with his husband when all of a sudden he's playing SPORTS??!?!??!

i think purely based on the arrangement made by wymack it's POSSIBLE that nicky is the weakest on the team. but i don't think he's bad. or holding them back. necessarily. realistically regardless of the personal reasons why wymack would have anyone on the team i think all of them are there because they can play. i don't think he just gets random people with problems and hands them an exy racquet and a dream you know. he still scouts for the team and decides who to sign and who not to sign.

my kind heart wants to say they're all on the same level. okay it DOES. i think they're all talented and Good. i know they're not equal but i can't categorise them because i feel bad for the people that are lower bc i still think they're good just not AS good as the people above em. ive written a list out in order like half a dozen times and i just feel bad about ranking them above each other :( they all have their strengths okay!!!!!!!!!

like do i think allison is better than it seems she is because of how much she gave up for exy? do i think that matt is on par with neil, and could be a really strong backliner if he kept working towards it? do i think that dan is a really strong leader which makes her a better player? do i think that renee is possibly much stronger on the court than in goals for not a whole bunch of reasons but Because I Feel It To Be True?

[damnfandomproblems]

Fandom Problem #5887:

I am literally the only person who actively makes content for my rarepair in the fandom. It's a perfectly plausible pair but gets super overshadowed by another more mainstream pair. I find their fans kinda intimidating because they do that, "this is canon, you can't tell me otherwise" jokes so often I can't tell if they're still joking or not.

I have a lot more works that I can post, but I hold back out of fear of being seen as just a different brand of crazy by the rest of the fandom. Like, this weirdo who keeps making stuff about a ship that no one even cares about and gets mostly pity notes. I've considered sending prompts to fandom events and stuff, but I always chickened out because I don't think anyone would pick my prompts.. It gets kinda lonely. I know I should just say "screw it!!" and post the things I like, but I can't seem to find the courage. Anyone got any tips for doing just that?

[psink]

Rainy season anime artwork translation:

A complicated chuunibyou guy

Kaidou Shun

(Voice Actor/ Shimazaki Nobunga)

Kusuo’s classmate that everyone knows is a chuunibyou. However because he’s shy, serious and pure-hearted by nature, he can’t maintain his chuunibyou persona.

⏴In the work, his chuunibyou sometimes causes problems for Kusuo, but in reality, he’s a good and timid child. He thinks of Kusuo, Nendou and Kuboyasu as important friends. Hopefully he’ll never lose this innocence.

Guy with a complicated love for his younger brother

Saiki Kuusuke

(Voice Actor/ Nojima Kenji)

Saiki Kusuo’s older brother, a genius mad scientist with an IQ of 218. Has a fetish for challenging his younger brother and getting defeated. He messes with Kusuo at any opportunity. 

⏶Contrary to his handsome looks, his real nature is quite disappointing. He’s an extreme masochist (however, this is limited to only Kusuo).

Complicated clingy guy

Akechi Touma

(Voice Actor/ Kaji Yuuki)

A logical and talkative transfer student who came to Kusuo’s class. He talks rapidly like a machine gun without reading the atmosphere of his surroundings. He suspects that Kusuo is a psychic. Although he was once deceived, he persistently continues to investigate Kusuo.

Guy who attracts complicated people

Saiki Kusuo

(Voice Actor/ Kamiya Hiroshi)

A high-school student who can control various psychic powers. In order to keep his abilities secret, he lives maintaining a moderate distance from those around him. His favorite food is sweets, he especially loves coffee jelly. 

⏶Although Kusuo almost never voluntarily expresses his emotions, he shows a blissful smile whilst tasting sweets. Is this cute contrast also a point that attracts people around him!?

⏶⏵In addition to Kaidou, other members of his troublesome group include the strongest idiot Nendou Riki (Voice Actor: Ono Daisuke and the delinquent Kuboyasu Aren (Voice Actor: Hosoya Yoshimasa), whose trouble-causing abilities are immeasurable. Despite that, they're also lovable guys that you can't hate.

(Kusuo’s left shoulder text)

The cheerful, sunny spring has passed and the rainy season has already arrived. Our handsome psychic, Saiki Kusuo, is on his way home whilst avoiding the scattered rain with his telekinesis, but there are people approaching him. His brother, Kuusuke, his classmate, Kusuo and the transfer student Akechi - these three people. Amongst them, Akechi, because of his natural quick thinking and good insight, seems to suspect Kusuo is a psychic!? With the intensity of either a devoted wife or a stalker, he clings to Kusuo and tries to reveal his secret by showering him with machine gun-like talk……Will Kusuo manage to avoid them like the rain and return the clear skies to his heart?

(Kusuo’s right shoulder text)

Just as his older brother, Kuusuke, is coming to pick him up with coffee jelly in one hand, Kaidou, struck by the rain, is showing off his chuunibyou. The transfer student Akechi invites Kusuo under his umbrella, too. Their attention-seeking offensive is even more persistent than the rainy season, how will Kusuo endure it!?

(Big text on white background)

A rain of love from the complicated people pours down intensively on

Kusuo☆

Heart-pounding regretful rain☆

QUESTION

If you were to share an umbrella with someone, who would it be?

Kamiya: Teruhashi-san. Her charm, which causes even the God to be her ally, makes me want to try saying 「offu」 as well.

Shimazaki: Of course, it’d have to be Teruhashi-san!!! Offu!!!

Saiki Kusuo’s Voice Actor

Kamiya Hiroshi-san 

Interview 

The 2nd season of 「Fierce Argument」. 

—If you were to express the growth and changes of Saiki Kusuo in the second season using four-character idioms or similar expressions, what would they be?

Kamiya: 「Fierce Argument (Editor’s note: The sound of swords clashing violently. Also, the state of engaging in heated debate)」 I feel that the degree of this is gradually increasing compared to the 1st season.

–Kamiya-san, please tell us a particular「Kusuo’s charm point」 that you’d like to recommend right now.

Kamiya: I don’t know much about Kusuo, but anyway, Teruhashi-san’s cuteness is a big charm of this work. 

–Please tell us the episode or moment that made you laugh whilst portraying Kusuo.

Kamiya: Kusuo is usually cool and it’s hard to read his emotions, but sometimes during particularly intense situations, he strongly interjects with 「You idiot!」, which is fun for me too.

–Kusuo is always extremely popular regardless of gender, Kamiya-san, if you were in his position, what would you do?

Kamiya: If each of them stays with me with the awareness that we're friends, then I will gratefully accept that.

Kaidou Shun’s Voice Actor

Shimazaki Nobunaga-san

Interview

Right now, I’m at my peak chuunibyou stage in life.

–If you were to express the growth and changes of Saiki Kusuo in the second season from a  chuunibyou perspective, what would that be?

Shimazaki: 「Jet Black Twilight - Ragnarok of Chaos」 Reason: it just sounds cool!

–Shimazaki-san, please tell us a particular 「Kaidou’s charm point」that you’d like to recommend right now.

Shimazaki: I find the contrast between Shun in his full-blown chuunibyou Jet-Black Wings mode and his natural self, who is a bit of a coward but is honest and caring about his friends, to be appealing.

–Shimazaki-sama, if you discovered a completely soaked Kaidou on a rainy day, what would you do?

Shimazaki: I’d protect him!!!

–Please tell us the episode or moment that made you laugh whilst portraying Kaidou.

Shimazaki: In the 2nd season, episode 4 of episode 8x, the loop episode 「Another Time Leap Challenge! I remember saying the same line over and over again like a broken record, it left a very strong impression on me. It was fun!

–Kaidou is still in full-blown chuunibyou mode, but Shimazaki-san, when were you the most chuunibyou-like in your life? 

Shimazaki: Right now. I seriously imagine using magic and saving the world every day.

[hardlyinteresting]

Lemon drops

Jake Seresin x reader

Nights at The Hard Deck just got a lot more interesting.

Warnings: alcohol consumption, The reader is referred to as she/her, with no physical description, (please let me know if you'd like me to tag anything please), I grew up in an Army household so some of my Navy knowledge may be slightly off base (no pun intended)

This one-shot will exist in the same universe as other one-shots I have planned. But, they can all be read entirely independently.

Word count: 1.3K

Masterlist | talk to me about Jake and Tyler

Friday nights at The Hard Deck are always busy. Sailors and pilots all stopping by on their way home from base eager to let loose, that's to be expected. What he's not expecting is to walk in on a bachelorette party in full swing. 

In a Navy town, it's not completely unheard of for last-minute bachelor and bachelorette parties to fill the local dives, but the larger-than-normal crowd and the young woman dancing on one of the tables has Jake rolling his shoulders back before he settles into the night. He'd been looking for a chill vibe, a cold beer and a few rounds at the pool table. But, he won't complain about a night of flirting, he fancies his odds in a room full of jealous bridesmaids and tag chasers.

Rooster and Coyote seem to have gotten a head start if the empty glasses, or the girls they're helping line up shots at the pool table are any indicator. 

Leaning against the bar Jake waits patiently for Penny to finish making a tray of shots. Lemon-coloured liquid poured from the silver shaker he's so rarely seen used at The Hard Deck, into sugar-rimmed 1 oz glasses. His eyes follow the tray over to the crowd of already tipsy ladies all dressed up to celebrate the blonde in her “bride” sash and tiara. But his attention lingers on the woman who laughs brightly as she raises the tiny glass for a toast. 

“To the bride! I think I speak for everyone when I say that we love you so much, and we're all so excited for this next chapter of your life!” The rest of the party cheers in response, “Now, let's get drunk and start drinking something that's not just sugar”

She's quick to down the lemon drop shot, quickly licking the drip that rolls down the back of her hand. She's sun-kissed and glowing even under the dim overhead lights. She must be from the area, not just passing through. The music is loud and the bar chatter is louder, and she's stunning as she moves her hips to the sound stepping down from the table. She's licked away the sugar rim on the glass by the time she makes it through the crowd to lean at the bar next to him. It's only when Penny sets a beer in front of him that he realizes he's been staring at the mystery girl. 

She's even cuter up close. And for the first time in a long time, he's speechless. Several recycled one-liners rattle around inside his head, but not a single one feels like it's worth the breath. Something about the way she moves through the room, either unaware or intentionally disinterested as several other patrons turn their heads to look her way, tells him she'll have no trouble shooting him down. Regretfully, it only makes him more intrigued. 

And as if she couldn't get sweeter, the scent of her perfume or her shampoo, or the hell if he knows knocks him back. Brown sugar and vanilla. Of course, she smells like sugar. He scolds himself as he replays the image of her pink-tongued and unctuous in her attempt to clean the syrupy glaze dripping across the back of her hand. He may be a self-proclaimed flirt and widely identified playboy but he does do his best to be a gentleman. Despite his attempts to think of church surgeons, or his mother's lectures, geography lessons, or complex aerodynamics, he knows it will be ages before he's able to completely erase the surprising saccharine bar room sight from his mind. 

“Whiskey, please,” she asks Penny, “and thank you for making those shots”.

“For you girls it's no problem,” Penny insists, sliding the glass of whisky across the bar. 

If he bothered to look up he'd catch her raking her own eyes across his form, paying attention to read his name badge, and trace his pins in an attempt to keep herself from ogling his broad shoulders, and strong arms. The khaki uniform does him all sorts of favours. Penny gives her a knowing smirk as she slides the whiskey across the bar.

Unashamed, his eyes follow the intriguing girl back across the room lingering too long on the back pockets of her little denim shorts. 

He's no stranger to wooing pretty girls in bars. He won't brag, but he's got an admirable success rate when it comes to finding a partner for the evening (and he's never heard any complaints). But, something about this girl is different. She's not just pretty, but she's stunning in a girl-next-door kind of way that damn near knocks him off his feet. The way she talks with her friends, and laughs without hesitation has a smile forming on his own face and he feels like a damn idiot for watching her from across the room. She pays no mind to any of the pilots or other patrons who mosey over to shoot their shot with her and the rest of her party, but she accepts every challenge that comes her way at the dartboard and the pool table. 

“What's wrong hangman? Cat got your tongue?” Penny laughs, “I was sure you were going to try to chat her up”. 

The truth is for the first time in a long time he feels like he might be out of his depth. Like a schoolboy with a crush on the new girl in class. 

“The night is still young,” he shrugs. 

But the night flies by, he drinks his beers, and laughs with his own friends, makes his own bets, but never crosses the room. 

She buys her own drinks, and corrals her drunk friends safely into the backs of taxi cabs, calling out for them to text her when they get home. And when closing time rolls around she settles her tab and says goodbye to Penny with a hug, and a reminder that she'll see her later. 

Jake goes home alone, the thought of the sugar sweet girl on his mind. 

When he returns to The Hard Deck next it's a week later. He saunters in with a grin. a bet with Rooster and Phoenix waiting to be won at the pool table, and an ice cold beer with his name on it calling for him. 

He heads to the bar first, leaning waiting to be served when he smells the hauntingly familiar smell of vanilla sugar. He's damn near certain his heart stops when she turns around behind the counter, a megawatt smile on her when she says, “hey, what can I get you?” 

“Whiskey. Neat. Thanks Sugar,” the name rips off his tongue before he can stop it. 

“Coming right up hot shot,” she laughs. 

“It's ‘Hangman’, actually. But you can call me Jake”.

She hums, setting his glass in front of him, “you were in here last week, weren't you”?”

“Sure was,” he confirms, allowing himself to memorize the way she leans back against the middle counter, her arms crossed; so calm and so cool. He suddenly feels the need to swallow hard, his cheeks warming under her directed gaze. 

“You won a lot of money off of my friends,” he offers when she says nothing else. 

She shrugs, “it's a habit I can't seem to break”.

He hopes she never does. Watching Payback and Coyote empty their wallets had been the highlight of his week. 

“Well, maybe when your shifts over,  you can come and try your luck with tonight's crowd, Sugar,” Jake offers. It's a feeble attempt at flirtation compared to his usual routine, but none of his words seem to be coming out right, his mind going blank each time he looks at her in her jeans and white tank top. Thoughts of lemon drop shots, short shorts, and table dancing fill his mind. Suddenly he's 13 again, asking a girl to the school dance with a racing heart. 

“I'm here ‘til closing,” she tells him, saving him from his spiral. She sorts her station and wipe down the bar top, “but don't worry, I'll be able to watch you show off from over here”. 

And with that she gone again, moving down the bar to help another customer. 

Nights at The Hard Deck sure just got a lot more interesting. 

[a-whisper-in-the-forest]

A plan

Part 1 (Disgraced apple pie) part 7 (Vengeance)

Although they won, the villains' house was in a rather sombre mood. Everyone is, except for Supervillain. They strolled happily through the garden, made everyone dinner and even played a game of darts with them. Sidekick found it weird. They've always known them as a calculating, non-darts-playing, always-a-degrading-smile-on-their-face kind of person. The others also seemed to think that way. Other Villain was careful with their every move and Assassin was definitely on edge.

But that was not their biggest concern. Assassin said that Supervillain just gets that way sometimes when they have a big win. No, they had a bigger problem. Since Supervillain was so happy about the win, they let Villain out of their mind control. They didn't take it well.

“Has anyone asked if Villain will join us for breakfast?” Supervillain says at the head of the table. The spot next to them has been empty for a couple of days now. The three villains shake their head no silently. “Well, go ask them,” they urged. After a few awkward looks, Assassin decides to do it. They stand from the table and walk towards Villain's room.

They looked even worse than they imagined. Their room was dark, completely covered in the Villain’s shadows. On the bed in the corner is a heap that appears to be human and cat curled up next to them. Assassin slowly stalks towards the bed. The shadows also edge closer and closer with every step, as a warning not to try anything.

“Hey…” Assassin whispers, placing a hand on the curled up Villain. “Supervillain asks if you are going to eat breakfast with us,” A low hum is the only response. “Please,” Assassin tries, “You haven't eaten in ages.” Villain turns around, tear stained and exhausted face visible. “It's not like I deserve too,” they whisper in a hoarse voice. “It's not your fault,” Assassin starts but before they can fully finish their sentence, a dark shadow swirls around their leg and pulls them outside the room, door slamming shut.

“I'll take that as a no, then,” Supervillain says from the table. Assassin silently sits again and starts taking some cereal. Sidekick watches as Assassin and Other Villain glance at each other as they eat. It looks like they are talking with their eyes, but it's in a language Sidekick doesn't speak, since they have no idea what they're talking about.

A little later the three of them are sitting in Other Villain's room, watching TV. Supervillain is out to go drinking with some friends, so they decided to do a movienight. Sidekick sees Assassin and Other Villain glance at each other and shifting uncomfortably. Sidekick can't hold it anymore. “Why are you two so tense?” They say a bit louder than they intended. The two villains look shocked at Sidekick and then at each other. “Well…” Assassin begins, “We have to talk to you about something.” Other Villain silently nods. “We aren’t sure to include you, since it's pretty dangerous.” Sidekick is about to explode “Oh come on, what is it?” They ask impatiently. Assassin sighs. “We have a plan. But we’re not sure if it'll work.”

~

Hero sighs as they cross away another plan. “That’s not going to work either,” they say as they let their head fall on the desk. “I'm never going to be able to kill Supervillain. Why is it so hard to kill somebody?”

A knock on their front door pulls Hero back from their mental spiral. Who visits them that late? Why? They slowly walk to the door and look through the peephole. Hero steps back in shock as they recognize the faces. Why are Assassin, Other Villain and their Sidekick standing at their door? Oh no, they've found me. They're going to kill me.

“Hero? Please open the door,” a voice sounds through the door. Did they sound desperate? “Look, we know it's … weird. And unusual, but we really need your help,” another voice says.

You know what? Fuck it.

Hero opens the door and the three villains look up in shock. “What?” Hero says as they try to look though, but fuck, those guys look intimidating as the shock on their faces disappears. “Well, we need you to keep someone safe for us,” Assassin says gesturing into the hallway. Hero looks hesitantly. They're not guarding some hostage.

But no, no hostage. It's Villain, slumped over in a chair. “Villain!” Hero says as they practically fly towards their criminal. “Hey, Vil?” Hero whispers softly. This time it's not glazed over eyes that look back but tired, yet alive eyes. “Hero?” Villain asked weakly. “Yeah,” Hero says as they pull Villain in for a hug.

Hero turns towards the other villains. “How?” Now it's Other Villain’s turn to answer. “Supervillain let them out of their control when we got back. But to get here we had to use something of Assassin's stuff to knock them out. They haven't really moved the past few days, so we didn't think they'd come along.” Hero just looks at their Villain. Tired, worn down. Nothing like the intimidating second hand to the Supervillain they met in the diner. “Do you mind keeping them safe for now? That bracelet should be able to stop any mind control,” Assassin asks, worry visible on their face. “Yeah,” Hero answers. “As long as I get to be the one to kill that monster.” A vague smile plays around the mouth of Other Villain. “That can be arranged.”

Hi! Sorry for being so inactive, but I just started my first year at Uni so I'm trying to settle down and get a routine going.

Sadly, this is the second to last part of the story :(. But! That means there's still one part more to go! (Which will appear one day, promise).

Anyway, hope you enjoyed!

[greenerteacups]

Omg that's the thought I've often had while reading HP and which Lionheart satisfies brilliantly; 'if only Draco did make friends with Harry, Ron and Hermione and taught them that children shouldn't have to deal with this actually!'

Like yes, from Harry's perspective, Draco running to authority and his dad all the time looks like cowardice (and it definitely is mostly) but also... it's often an appropriate response for a child to have? Harry doesn't get it because he, sadly, has never had a loving stable parental authority figure to look to for protection and help. Like that one bit when they're being punished by looking for an injured unicorn in the Forbidden Forest (wth?) and an evil shade turns up drinking unicorn blood in front of them and Draco just peaces out screaming... yes, reasonable child reaction. But the default Gryffindor state of mind cannot comprehend this as a concept it seems.

Draco is usually reacting within the normal Overton window of "this is a fucking insane thing for you, an adult, to expect/ask/require of me, a child"; of particular interest to me was the part in the books where he was a jackass to Buckbeak, and then got his arm injured, and it was portrayed as this unjust thing that Buckbeak was going to be put down for that. But like... it did attack a child? And you could say, "well, Draco didn't show proper respect," but like — that is what Harry thinks is the problem, because Harry thinks that Draco is an asshole who gets what's coming to him, but Harry is not the qualified adult who's supposed to be teaching that class, and who assumes responsibility for ensuring the safety of children under his care. And I'm not blaming Hagrid, and I'm not saying that it was right to kill Buckbeak for that. I'm just saying that Draco was 13 in that scene. He was a dumb, arrogant 13-year-old who got hurt really badly, and I'm not shocked that he wanted the animal that hurt him to die.

Harry — and to some extent, Ron and Hermione — has a tendency to assume that things are his fault AND his responsibility because historically, when bad things happen to him, he has to get out himself. Particularly useful to understanding this character trait are the sequences with the Dursleys at the beginnings of the early books, because they demonstrate how little help is available to Harry when he's living with them; when he hurts himself, or gets angry, or wants affection, his only options are to try and solve the problem himself (cf. the flight from Aunt Marge) or self-isolate. Ron is usually on board, because Ron, while the son of two loving parents, is also one of many children who presumably couldn't rely on having immediate attention when they asked for it, and hence developed a certain assumption of self-sufficiency; Hermione is just plainly arrogant enough that she thinks she can solve problems better than a lot of the adults in her life, and her track record at solving those problems doesn't give her a ton of evidence to the contrary.

Draco, of course, canonically over-relies on help from his superiors, especially his father, whom he idolizes and throws around a lot whenever he wants something. His ability to get what he wants without exerting himself or demonstrating real bravery is a serious roadblock to his development, and it's why the sixth book — the first time that he's actually seen getting his ass kicked by a problem he can't buy or bully his way out of — is where so many people started to like him. He's finally being placed in the same situation Harry's been in for about five books.

[l-in-the-light]

The Red Line and the All Blue

I have been thinking about the All Blue lately. I really, really like the theory that to get to the All Blue we need to destroy the Red Line. But there's just one problem with this. It lacks story reason. It doesn't have the oomph the usual mysteries in One Piece deliver. It's like the fandom discovered this piece of puzzle and left it on display, instead of trying to connect it to other things to make bigger sense of One Piece's world.

Red Line is called, curiously enough, a line.

If we ignore the seabelts, it looks like it seperated the world into two parts, two halves, because that line goes all around the globe. Interestingly enough, it seems like the North-West part is the one that is scientifically more advanced in comparison to the East-South. We have the family of best doctors the Tragalgars and botanists Mont Blancs in the North. Germa Kingdom with it's advanced science also is located in the North. And there are also Ohara's scholars in the West.

Meanwhile, there's no notable locations like that in the South and East, and most places seem to look very primitive there (lots of villages and small towns, not counting Goa Kingdom itself). In South Blue it seems to be similar, though there's one exception: Torino Kingdom. It looks primitive but actually hides lots of advancement. This makes me think that (at least some places in the) East and South might be pretending to be more primitive that they actually are, hiding their inventions. Flevance or Ohara were pretty open about their achievements, knowledge and technology, like it was to be expected that they're advanced and proud of it.

Oda doesn't really expand much on West and South Blues, but we know quite a lot about East and North, so I will focus on them primarily as we move on.

Shakky makes it sound like calm belts are means of protection, not something posing danger, like we were led to believe so far. But now they're not so safe anymore because of scientific inventions. It makes it all seem like calm belts were placed there intentionally somehow and aren't a result of coincidence. Not even Marines could go to the calm belts before using Vegapunk's inventions.

Now the question we should ask is this: what are calm belts protecting? People like the Kuja tribe (personally I think Kuja are just benefitting from it, they weren't the original purpose)?

Or... perhaps to protect the Grand Line itself by seperating it from everything else? And by extension, also from the Marines. Grand Line is the place where all pirates go who seek the One Piece, it can't be a coincidence.

"This is the boundary between justice and evil!" said the Marines as they painted the line and told everyone to respect it. What we know from the Void Century so far is that it was a war between two different ideologies. What if the Red Line is the result of those two fractions seperating from each other, literally dividing the world into two parts? "Don't ever cross that line". Crossing the Red Line is definitely a difficult thing to do for normal people and if anyone crosses it it's either Marines or Pirates. It divided the seas for forever.

Vegapunk also said there are still scars left on the world from the Void Century's war. Not only the world sank by 200 meters, apparently there are literally traces from the war left behind, and normally you would expect to see some ruins. But 800 years passed already and so many nations are so fast at rebuilding their kingdoms, what possible "ruins" or "scars" could be left behind that are still visible? Unless... those scars are the Red Line and the calm belts. It would be indeed very challenging to get rid of those. Coincidentally we have no idea when the Red Line got created. All we know is that Lunarians used to live there at some point. Marco knows that from Whitebeard and I wonder who Whitebeard heard that from? Perhaps Roger, because Roger told him what the D. stands for, so why not that as well.

Unless it's somehow connected to the D.

Because in the "land of gods" this is what welcomes the visitors. Cloaked figures of warrior-guardians (my guess based on their looks alone), those on the left wieldings swords, those on the right spears. This must be a relic of older times, because it has literally nothing to do with Celestial Dragons. And it kinda fits the idea that current Government just stole the older structures for themselves. Impel Down (that bears poneglyph-like writings), Gates of Justice, Marie Geoise, they might have even had different functions long, long time ago. What all those locations have in common is their advancement and heritage that seems not to be used to it's full potential, more like recycled for a different purpose. Impel Down was probably never a prison to begin with. If you want more headbending mysteries, then I can't reccommend enough to play One Piece World Seeker. Just the map alone of the Jail Island raises so many questions. It's also a mining town and has an underwater prison as well...

This looks like there was once an entrance or a passage way, allowing the ships to go through between the North and East Blues. It has been sealed off or something else was done to it.

Curiously enough, doctors were the ones allowed to pass the line between "justice" and "evil". Because doctors save lives. We know Trafalgars were apparently a family of doctors for many generations. It is possible they didn't even originate in the North Blue, but moved there at some point. Because doctors are allowed to cross borders.

Many people speculate that the red figure of Luffy (or is it a statue of Joyboy?) symbolizes the Red Line in the logo of One Piece. The horizontal lines are the calm belts protecting the Grand Line. What's the anchor and skull&bones with the Strawhat then? In the very first chapter of One Piece Luffy wears this shirt:

Is the anchor Luffy, or rather, the East Blue where Luffy comes from? Is the skull and bones with a strawhat the North Blue then perhaps? So then, the idea behind destroying the Red Line would be to finally connect the East and the North Blues together again, seperated for centuries. That might be what the rope symbolizes: connect them together (coincidentally, the "full" name of One Piece treasure includes the word hitotsunagi which might have a second, double meaning: connect the people). The goal of destroying the Red Line is to bring the two seperated seas back together, and by doing that we discover the All Blue. Perhaps, long long time ago, in the ancient times there was only one sea.

Zou is on the back of Zunesha for over thousand of years. That's way before the Void Century even happened. Which means minks have the knowledge about the world that dates back a thousand years. And back then there was only one sea, the All Blue, and 5 islands in the whole world. It's likely the world was not divided yet into two parts with the Red Line either.

Why is the skull munching on the rope, I have no idea.

I have a hunch this is all part of the plan. Roger's plan and Joyboy's plan (yes, I believe Roger did something as well to help Joyboy's plan to succeed). They're waiting for the "right people" to show up, after all. They are stationed in certain places that can't be avoided on the voyage to Laugh Tale, like Twin Capes, Sabaody... all ships have to pass through these locations on the Grand Line.

Maybe they helped fate a little?

But clearly fate isn't all there is to the story.

Merging those symbols together get us a "sun" symbol we have seen in many places before (like Alabasta and Shandora and Kozuki's clan, they're all the guardians of the poneglyphs and had possible ties to Joyboy). Blackbeard has it too, he apparently likes to study history, so maybe he knows some secrets.

My current bet is those two fractions used to be one, then they divided into "crossbones" (later outcasted and villainized, perhaps?) and "crosses" (World Government, the "good" guys or in other words: the winners).

But I bet you anything there will be a twist, or even few twists, here. There's no way the final answer will be that simple ;) And I'm sure Joyboy's plan will be one crazy ride as well :D

[syndrossi]

resonant ch28 dvd commentary

Favorite line(s):

Daemon cradled him to his chest, rocking him as though doing so might take them back to his first moments of life, fresh from the womb and bellowing fury at the world. I was not there for his first breath. I cannot live to see his last.

Sobbed like an absolute mess writing Jon's death, but especially this part. Daemon already has so much bottled-up grief and regret over missing their childhood and infancy, there's something absolutely gutting about him rocking Jon in his arms, like the baby he never held, trying to coax life back into him, this twisted parallel to holding a stillborn child, life snuffed too soon.

And the despair at living to see that moment, at wanting to die before seeing it. (Only to "realize" later that the only way either of them could have died alone like that would have been if he weren't there to protect them.)

Favorite detail(s):

Probably all the hidden meaning and hints/clues scattered throughout the vision? I haven't seen anyone pick up on the bigger (in terms of revelatory rather than being obvious) ones yet, but they're there to read back over later and be like "ohhhh." Or to reread and see if you can tease them out!

One thing I thought about a lot, and wanted to remain consistent about, was the limitations of whoever is sending the visions. The only things they have "seen" is Jon and Rhaegar's deaths, though it's unclear how. (Did the candle extract them from Jon's nightmares? Did the sorcerers peer into their possible futures before stealing them away?)

So that means Baelon's and Aemon's deaths were not visions they could have constructed, they had to have come from somewhere else. Daemon was there for Baelon's death, so it's easy enough to recreate that from his memory. But where did Aemon's death come from? That's sort of the linchpin, if Daemon ever fully remembers the visions. Showing him his father's death doesn't mean Jon's and Rhaegar's deaths were anything other than illusions meant to manipulate him. But the details of Aemon's death felt very vivid, very accurate--if Daemon were to confirm that, he might be forced to accept the other visions.

(So...where did Aemon's death vision come from?)

Uuugh there's so much I want to talk about with the visions and the stuff just before/after the visions, but it risks getting spoilery. Best I can do is suggest that people read and reread the candle's/warlock's/sorcerer's words.

Favorite dynamic:

Oh no, this is hard to pick. I actually loved writing the first scene with Daemon and Viserys. The whole: "Am I one of your problems?" "Do you know how to be anything but?" exchange was another favorite of mine for its breathtaking sharpness, and Viserys's immediate regret afterward. Ironically, I thought that this scene might be one to soften people a bit toward Viserys, but the candle has worked its spell quite well, with most taking the candle's side on the matter.

Viserys is, on the surface, someone constantly getting in his own way, barely more than competent at his job on a good day, and he doesn't have many good days anymore. And he's trying to juggle the mess of the family politics/division on top of everything else, including the Volantis wrinkle and sudden prophecy children + uncertainty over what to do there other than hope Daemon can make more, preferably girls.

He seems like the architect of his own loneliness and isolation, but it's not just him. You have spiders like Otto who benefit from him being isolated and encourage it. Would Otto prefer that Viserys show obvious favoritism towards Aegon? Sure, it would help his case. But his hands-off approach means that Otto can mold Aegon and Aemond to the future he wants.

And then there's the chronic, pervasive pain and fatigue which sap his strength/will and make it easier not to fight. To not steel himself for the conflict of a family supper and instead take the dreamwine so that he can stop hurting for the day. When he's not drinking dreamwine, he's drinking wine, which has a similar numbing effect.

The greatest irony is that in this scene, we get Viserys entrusting various responsibilities to Daemon, a gesture that actually means something. He's letting Daemon choose tutors (usually the queen's job) and he's letting him lead the candle investigation (usually something he'd probably let Otto do). They're fumbling toward an understanding, with Daemon recognizing his loneliness and attempts at connection, and Viserys choosing to trust Daemon--

And then the candle sidles in, determined to nip that in the bud.

Runner up dynamic is the dynamic duo of the twins at the very end, triaging Daemon and prescribing immediate cuddles and a lullaby. Rhaegar is more accustomed to a despairing, inconsolable parent, so he's able to take the lead here. He's also uninjured, so he can be a little more acrobatic than poor Jon.

Quick hitters:

We get a softer, older version of the cut HOTD scene where Daemon tries to convince Viserys to fly off with him on adventures/conquest. Daemon these days just longs for connection with his brother, so it's the Giant's Toe he offers instead as a refuge, with its childhood memories.

Jon is SO GRUMPY that Daemon left them with two Kingsguard to prevent escape. And the Cargyll brothers, no less, who are the most vigilant to shenanigans!

Another runner-up fave line(s) that made me chortle writing them: "Tiresome could mean many things. Merely contemplating Lord Reyne’s existence, much less interacting with him, was tiresome."

It's clear that Daemon's more than a little entranced even before the candle lights up, which is similar to how Rhaegar can get when he's "hearing" it.

This little gut-punch from @cloud-harasser's ao3 comment: "I also love how Daemon carries a piece of Aemon with himself always and feels him everyday in a way when he does his braids. I bet seeing Daemon on Caraxes with his braided hair haunts Rhaenys when the light is just right."

The death that Daemon is least affected by is Baelon's, which is mostly because he was there for it, and it was slow and drawn-out. He had time to prepare and even make his peace with it. He never got that closure with Aemon.

Aemon promising to help Daemon find a dragon when he returned. Only his body came back, and Daemon got Caraxes, so he did fulfill his promise in a way that Daemon never would have wanted.

Daemon's best internal sense of the vision is that he died early, some possible rebellion rose that resulted in Jon's exile and Rhaegar later fighting in it. Their dragons were either taken from them or lost early.

If the twins were overprotective of Daemon before, we are about to see them take it to new heights...

[piratecaptainscaptainpirates]

Idea for a childhood friends AU:

so it's a dark and stormy and gloomy day a couple months after Stede's birthday, and tonight his father finally agreed to drop him off at Walmart after school so he can spend his birthday money. He always gets just money for his birthday, and he feels guilty for feeling a bit sad about it, because he knows he should be happy that his father just handed him like five hundred dollars, but he just really wants to have someone care enough to wrap a present for him and pick out something he'd like. It just feels like his parents throwing money at him to fix the problem again (the problem is him).

So Stede wanders around the store, and he knows it'll be late before anyone comes back to pick him up, and his father sent along some money so he can grab lunch at the restaurant further down in the shopping center. His father, who has no grip at all on the reality of how much things cost, has sent easily triple what he'd ever need to get himself dinner, so he's planning on using the leftovers to buy just, like, a ton of chocolate. And Stede figures he'll spend his birthday money on a new video game system or something, and when he gets to the game aisle, there's another kid standing there.

Ed took the bus here after school to buy that week's groceries. It's always a bit of a bummer, because his mama says to only get exactly what's on the list for that week so they don't run out of food stamps by the end of the month, and Ed has to look longingly at other kids getting snacks and candy and know he can't have any. They've never been able to jump through the right hoops to get an amount of money in food stamps that would actually really help, Ed's dad makes just too much and no one cares that he spends his entire paycheck down at the pub. Ed keeps track of how much they've got left to spend in his mind, and tonight, he's had to leave off some of the items on his mama's list because he knows how to make these calculations and he knows the cheap boxes of spaghetti will get them a lot further than the dinosaur nuggets she put on there just so he can have something fun. He lives close to the store, it's an easy walk, but he hates having to carry everything back himself so he likes to waste some time in the video games aisle just looking, and imagining what it would be like to get a new game for his birthday when he knows good and damn well his birthday present will always be a trip to the local pizza buffet and two dollars for the arcade games.

so when Stede rounds the corner to see this kid a bit younger than him staring longingly at the latest NES games, all he can think about is how much he wishes he had someone to play with.

And the thing is: Stede has more money in his pockets than he could ever spend, and his parents don't know how much things cost, and this kid is standing there shivering in just a baggy t-shirt and jeans that someone has ironed to make them seem nicer than they are even though they're scuffed to hell and back, and all he can think is man, you look lonely, and I'm real lonely, too.

They get to chatting, and they come up with a brilliant plan. Stede buys a new NES and a couple games, and they're going to keep it at Ed's house so they can play together. They don't know it, not yet, but they're going to have a couple Super Mario-themed decorations at their wedding, because that game was their very favorite. And Stede maybe knows enough about the world already to know he can't just offer to buy Ed a new jacket, they barely know each other and he doesn't want to embarrass his new friend, but he's going to "accidentally" pay for the food Ed's getting, too, not to mention all the fun snack food and candy Ed helps him pick out.

Stede's going to wind up staying for dinner at Ed's house that night, and it'll be the best meal he's ever had, and when they're done playing games Stede's going to "accidentally" leave his jacket on Ed's bed. There's not a time after this that Stede won't accompany Ed on grocery runs, and he's going to make sure Ed and his mama mysteriously always find their pantry full despite the food stamp tally not budging. Ed's going to get to go on two trips to the pizza buffet every year, because his mama treats Stede to one, too, and Stede's going to help Ed apply for a scholarship to the fancy school he goes to across town. They're even, he says, because Ed always lets him check his homework for the right answers.

Just two kids helping each other out in whatever ways they can, and not really knowing when they first meet that neither of them are ever going to go without a friend, not ever again.